When DeSean was younger, and he was first getting into his rebellious teenage phase, he would avoid his father’s house and go read Manga. He would plug in his earbuds and drown his brain with rock music while taking a seat in the darkest corner of the public library. From there, he would read through catalogs of Japanese ink and let his imagination take him away.

There was this one story following a main character who manipulated darkness. It was his main power-set, allowing him to shape shadows or the night itself into tools, weapons, and flexible tendrils. This was before darker anti-hero characters got looked down upon as entertainment for edgy, emo, try-hard losers.

At the time, DeSean just found it enthralling. He let himself get swept by the main character’s journey as a heroic pariah of the setting’s hypocritical society. Now DeSean was in the shoes of that dark main character. He felt a boyish thrill that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Hey, I gotta go do something with the princess,” he told the team.

“Is it going to be something fun?” Social Media asked, posing her hands into a picture frame aimed at his face. “You’re smiling a lot, DeSean. It’s kind of nice and creepy at the same time.”

The Marine covered his lower face. He couldn’t suppress his smile, however. Dropping his hand, he wiped it nervously behind his back.

Everyone stared at him with wide, curious eyes.

“When I get back, I might return as someone… or something different.” He tapped his foot rapidly. “But I’m pretty excited to see where it’ll take me.”

“The Main Path,” Dazzle croaked while half asleep in the suburban. “Tell us all about it in the morning.”

Art History shook his head at his friend. “Don’t mind her. She’s drained. Just be safe, Sergeant.”

“But tell us right away what’s it like,” Mariah said in a breathless rush, grabbing DeSean by the arm. “I’m so close, I can feel it. Roberto’s the same.”

“I’m kind of scared what it’s going to do to us,” Roberto said. “What if we get stuck in cocoons like the Chosen? Like… Abuela?”

“It won’t happen like that,” DeSean said, pushing Mariah off gently. “Just keep a lookout until I get back. I’m trusting you guys to… be ready if a fight comes our way.”

“First he’s smiling, now he’s caring for us,” Art History said. “I think we’re warming his cold, dark heart.”

“D’awwww!” Social Media ran in and hugged DeSean, making the Marine stiffen from the unexpected affection. He didn’t shove her off right away. Besides, the girl was still in recovery from what had happened the past couple of days.

“Promise you’ll come back okay, right?” Social Media asked. “I can’t lose anyone else.”

“I’ll be alright.” Besides, if it turned out to be a whole-ass trap that would see him vanquished, then they would know not to take the Main Path. DeSean hoped Princess Lylothia had been honest with him as much as a demonic ruler of the Seventy-Two Hells could be.

After he departed from the team—he really needed to figure out a name for this group—then again, I’m sure Art History or Social Media will have better name than what I can come up with—DeSean strolled for a few minutes.

With autumn transitioning closer to winter, the temperature would drop quickly and spread a windy chill. Social Media had read out the forecast earlier from her phone, but DeSean felt unfazed by the dropping temperature. Whether that was due to Strength or Endurance, or a combination of both, the Marine was uncertain. He welcomed his body’s ability to self-regulate his temperature comfortably.

You wouldn’t think much of it, but there were plenty of occasions where DeSean and his fellow Marines found themselves cold and miserable and wishing for shelter rather than being out on duty. It was the little things that made this whole System takeover and introduction to Status Tablets kind of marvelous.

Just thinking about it made him want to look at it again, knowing it would change drastically tonight.

DeSean Dante Solomon (Basic Human)

Records: [Chaos Marked], [Great Defense Leader], [Hardcore Grit], [Great Chaos Finder]

Main Path: [Unlocked - Ready for Selection]

Skills: [Talented Summoning (Great Passive)], [Vicious Curse Spinning (Great Passive)]

Od Level: 134 (+15)

Strength: 26

Agility: 17 (+5)

Endurance: 22 (+5)

Focus: 23 (+5)

Attunement: 46

Free Od: 25

DeSean sighed merrily, ready to see where his Od Level would go from here.

“You’re in a joyful mood, Summoner,” Princess Lylothia said from on top of a low hanging branch. Beneath her talons was a small bird she’d torn apart. Her perky lips and round cheeks were smeared with blood.

DeSean used his left sleeve to wipe her face for her, catching the princess off guard. She fluttered her wings a little, but she didn’t bat his hand away.

“How forthcoming of you!” she exclaimed, breaking into laughter. Despite the sound of her dark, deep, and demented voice, DeSean could almost hear the hint of something bubbly and girlish in there.

“Well, Princess, tonight feels like my lucky night,” DeSean said, tilting his head back. “I remember the lesson you gave Botany. You have to feel out the element around you. Let your energy sensitivity hear the melody of its power, so you can sing its song, serenade it, and borrow its magic for yourself.”

“There’s more to it but I suppose that would do as an adequate summary,” the princess said.

DeSean grinned fiercely. “Then let’s say I already know the element I want.” He raised his hand and grasped at the night. “It’s all around me. It’s been with me since I was a child. I don’t care if everyone fears us, hates us, or diss us. This element… it’s special to me.”

The princess watched him amusingly. “Listen to its melody, Summoner. Listen and sing its song. Then it shall be yours.”

DeSean closed his eyes, his smile growing as he extended his metaphysical senses. There was nothingness at first. It was like he stepped into a void. The rustling trees, chirping crickets, and hooting owls faded from existence.

Here in this endless, all-consuming, eternal pit of darkness, DeSean waited and waited and waited for the melody to make itself known. Most men would’ve given up by now, unable to stand in the mind-rending silence of the dark. But DeSean persevered.

And when his mind was struck by sudden twisted thoughts—the nights when he hid in the closet with the lights off in hopes his drunk father wouldn’t turn his ire on him—DeSean stayed in that scary place. His mind shifted to war. He waited in the foxhole as night-time mortal shells struck the earth around him, blowing up a Marine to his right and throwing chunks of his body into DeSean’s cover. His mind shifted again to another nightmare. He stayed absolutely still no matter where his mind took him, looking past the nightmares of his waking life and listening for the song of the dark. Then it finally came to him.

DeSean opened his eyes, his mouth moving even though the melody was a formless, empty, lost cadence. It was music that spoke to the curious, to the freak, to the wanderer, and to the bold. It was the song of the thief, the murderer, the predator, and all those who stalked the night. It spoke of eons that stretched back to a time beyond DeSean’s understanding. The dark held knowledge, weight, and power that existed before there was light.

DeSean could get lost in this magic easily, but he centered himself on what he wanted. He looked at his raised palm and said, “Oh darkness, come to my hand and Gather.”

His mana depth blazed, shining a deep, enriched purple around his body. It shone from his eyes especially.

The magical light his body cast etched the trees around him with shadows that rippled with a will of their own. Thin strips launched into the air and gathered in a small whirlpool above his hand. The mini-typhoon of darkness condensed, sucking up mana as it coalesced into the middle of his palm as a marble of darkness.

DeSean noticed his mana depth getting close to two-thirds empty and shifted his intent. He stopped gathering darkness and concentrated on maintaining the marble. This alone would’ve been an amazing achievement, but DeSean wanted more. He knew he could do more. It was meant to be.

“Oh darkness, arm my hand with a Blade.”

His hand flashed a dark purple light as his magic answered to his will. The marble flattened, extended, and sharpened itself into a dirk-like blade with a thin handle. Incredibly, when DeSean gripped the handle like a knife, it seemed to fit him just fine. He his mana depth didn’t shrink by much either.

DeSean grinned and willed the blade to shape itself into a punch-knife. It did as he commanded, following further orders as DeSean had his fun regardless of how much the practice drained from his mana. Only when he reached a critical point that would touch his limit did he let the darkness disperse.

It unraveled rapidly, releasing a strong gust before sinking into the shadows where it belonged. The purple light DeSean emitted cut out, leaving the Marine woozy and drained. He collapsed into a sloppy seat as a System Notification appeared.

You’ve developed a Skill without a Path: Dark Reveler (Great Passive).

Dark Reveler (Great Passive)—You’ve shown exceptional aptitude and sensitivity for dark elemental magic. This passive will reduce your mana depth needs when using this element, enable you to manipulate darkness and dark-like powers faster, and aid you on learning other elements that can be synced with the dark. You also get a 15% boost to Agility when moving under the cover of night, darkness, or shade.

You’ve obtained +3 Free Od.

“Hah, I did it!” DeSean shouted, losing his discipline. Sound carried farther during the night, and the enemy could strike from anywhere. But he was too giddy to clamp it down right now. Marines knew how to celebrate just as much as they knew how to fight.

Getting to his feet, DeSean looked up to find Princess Lylothia smirking. There was something strange about the gleam shining through her eyes. For once, DeSean felt the creeps. It was as if he wasn’t aware of something that the princess knew and he was about to—

You’ve obtained [Pathless Skill Chaser] on your Records.

[Pathless Skill Chaser]—Without the structure of a Main Path, you’ve sought Systemic Skills through your own practice and experience. It takes hunger, drive, and talent to achieve this. In recognition of your merits, you’ve earned a permanent +15 Endurance and +15 Attunement.

“Ah, I see, this is what you wanted me to… to see,” DeSean groaned, feeling ill all of a sudden. His body started to hurt, and he suddenly felt tired. The Marine fell back down to a knee, his every breath coming out shallow.

“Did you receive [No Path Skill Taker]?” the princess asked.

“No… it’s called [Pathless Skill Chaser],” he corrected breathlessly.

“Ah, apologies. I read it as another name from the tomes I’ve studied before the Cycle arrived. The System changes the Skill names among other things with every Integration.” The princess flapped down, landing on the ground in front of him.

“Princess… I feel like… shit.”

“Did you receive anything else, Summoner?”

“No, it’s just—”

You’ve obtained [Pathless Chaos Mage] on your Records.

[Pathless Chaos Mage]—You’ve learned and bent chaotic magic to your will without a Main Path, seeking great power regardless of the System’s assistance. There is extreme talent here. In recognition of your merits, you’ve earned a permanent +30 Attunement.

DeSean fell on his side, curling up. Everything hurt. His body felt like it was going to tear itself apart. He’d been through many types of pain, but this one struck from every cell of his body. It was deeper than that, too. His mana depth was roiling. His brain felt like it was going to leak out of his ears. The heavy scent of copper filled his nostrils.

“Another addition to your Records?” Princess Lylothia asked, hopping closer to his face. After DeSean struggled to nod, she said, “Good, good, you’ve crossed the Od Level Limit for the Pathless. You may think it’s the System trying to kill you, but a circle I entertain believes the power of Od is so great, the System is attempting to assist you on the transition. You’re past the ceiling of a comfortable evolution, so taking the Main Path now would be the sensible thing to do. But.”

“But?” DeSean grunted, spitting blood.

“I have one more addition to your Records to give you.” The Princess jumped onto DeSean’s face. Her lips pressed against his cheek, leaving a very different impression than her looks would suggest. It felt like DeSean was getting kissed by an actual woman whose beauty was so divine and dangerous it made him shudder from the touch of her.

The System responded.

You’ve obtained [Great First Kiss of the Forty-First Hell Princess] on your Records.

[Great First Kiss of the Forty-First Hell Princess]—Princess Lylothia of Forty-First Disc of the Seventy-Two Hells has given you a kiss, the very first this Hell Princess has given during this Cycle. To earn the affection of a Hell Princess of the Seventy-Two Hells speaks greatly of your prowess. In recognition of your merits, you’ve earned a permanent +10 Agility, +10 Endurance, and +10 Focus based on Princess Lylothia’s stat preferences.

You’ve met the requirements to have your [Chaos Marked] updated.

DeSean bit down on a scream as another System Notification followed after the last.

You’ve updated [Chaos Marked] to [Hell Marked].

[Hell Marked]—You’re in bed with demonic forces preparing to fight the Heavenly Lords. By the design of your dark masters or your own sinister plot, the SYSTEM will recognize you as a hellish force that’ll bring the taint of chaos merrily. In recognition of this update, you’ve retained all the statuses of [Chaos Marked] and gain special access to Hell Arenas and other seclusive benefits. You’ve also been given +72 Free Od for your hellish ambitions.

Tears streamed down DeSean’s face. The pain was too much. An animal instinct to flee or fight was crawling into the front of his mind. The glowing red eyes of the Hell Princess kept him centered in the here and now before he lost total control.

“Summoner, you are not yet ready for me to call you by your name,” Lylothia said demurely. “But I feel quite strongly about you. It has not been very long, really. But my hearts pound excitedly for your potential. With just that kiss, I’ve tasted your fate, and it’s beyond even my own understanding. Perhaps the System has plans for you. Perhaps the Heavenly Lords will not remain unfettered this Cycle. Whatever is to come, go forth, Summoner, and fight for your Main Path.”

DeSean’s eyes rolled into his skull as he faintly called out to his Status Tablet.

DeSean Dante Solomon (Basic Humanoid)

Records: [Hell Marked], [Great Defense Leader], [Hardcore Grit], [Great Chaos Finder], [Pathless Skill Chaser], [Pathless Chaos Mage], [Great First Kiss of the Forty-First Hell Princess]

Main Path: [Unlocked - Ready for Selection]

Skills: [Talented Summoning (Great Passive)], [Vicious Curse Spinning (Great Passive)], [Dark Revelry (Great Passive)]

Od Level: 224

Strength: 26

Agility: 27

Endurance: 47

Focus: 33

Attunement: 91

Free Od: 100

DeSean paused, noticing his Basic Human status had changed to Basic Humanoid. Whatever that meant, he couldn’t think on it now. He was suffering too much to think.

He desperately reached for the Main Path and started the Selection process.

His pain winked out, and his consciousness started to fade. The last thing he heard was Princess Lylothia whispering into his ear with a sweet, welcoming voice unlike her usual demonic tone.

“Return to me, o’ Summoner, so I may see how you are explosives hidden in the mud.”